Copyright © 2010Poetry: Sorina Busch, Illustration: Tristan Kiyan

Design: Derrick WilliamsAll rights reserved.

Published in the United States at Williams Park Publishing, an imprint of the Coppermine Publishing Group, a division of Coppermine Inc., New York.

Coppermine and colophon are registered trademarks of Coppermine, Inc.ISBN 847-4-5612-8464-7-6122

eBook ISBN 796-I-90746-987-5-5277Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

www.copperminepublishing.com7 6 8 9 3 7 9 0

First EditionBook design by Derrick Williams

Table of Contents

Poem 1

Poem 2

Poem 3

Poem 4

Poem 5

Poem 6

Poem 7

About Page (writter)

About Page (graphic designer)

Thanks Page

ANOTHER DAY

ANOTHER DAY

My eyes open, My head pounds.I look around the room,hoping to find some motivation.Perhaps I will find itelsewhere.

The sun hangs directly over my head,like an anvil,ready to drop.Not unlike myself today.I’m halfway there.Halfway through.

Almost time to leave.Now come the longest hours of the day.Maybe I can trick myself.Don’t look at the clock.

Standing in front of the microwave,waiting for dinner, Iglance about my house and find nothing.There is comfort in that, but also something else.

I reflect on my day.They say there is safety in routine,but what about boredom in safety?My eyes close.

SHARING IS CARINGIt is cold here, and lonely,There is shortage of silence to keep compay,

My own company, What once was a bustling spot,full of friends and lovers is now nothingmore than a place to gather dust,

But this dust I have gathered is my ownand no one else’s. I will not share this last possession of mine....because i cannot share.

No more can the flowers bloom and blossom from this cracked soil, hard and cold as concreteNo more do the trees produce their fruit. Red, yellow, orange.

Beautiful Not here in this barren land,heart, mind, soul.

COLORS LOST IN TIMEI opened a box of my favorite postcards,bursting with color and fond memories.Leading me from my sterile grey existenceto a period when I called luck and time my friends.

As I sift through the old noted from old friends,some dear to me, and others former,I think for a moment I may sneeze, but that moment,not unlike any other, passes by with little effort.

Things aren’t really all that bad I suppose,but they’re not all great as they seemed back then.The brightest of these reads “Wish you were here”and now more than ever I wish I was too.

SIDEWALK

Looking down at the sidewalkI notice just how filthy it really is.Dirt and grime have taken it over

and in places there are mysterious stains.Thousands, if not more, have tread this path.I do so nearly every day, but to stop and look?Or to even think about sitting?

The thought would never cross a sane mind.Is that gum? What is that? Vomit maybe?So few people look down and notice the path their on,and now that I have, I am left wondering

why people aren’t more afraid of falling?

THE BOXER

Beaten, black and blue,my corner throws in the towel.They seem to think I’m finished.Am I?

A sultry, simple smilemay convince me otherwise.I’m always ready to try this again.Are you?

Persistent pain pushesme to the end of my wits,but I know I must never give up…Don’t I?

A loud, long, lingeringbell tolls and tells me this is over.I can’t seem to remember the end.Can You?

THE TRAVELER

It seems from the time that I was very young,to the time they call right now,I have been walking in circles.Walking alone.

Pacing endlessly with my head full of thoughts.Who am I? Where am I going? What do I want?I wonder what is the point?I, I, I.

It is tiresome keeping pace with one’s mind,never to settle, never to slow.Without an end in sight.Blind.

But now I can see that living this waymay not be the only way to live.That is, if you are like me.Lonely.

Denny Munson(Writer)

Derrick Williams(graphic designer)

Thanks Page